The SureFire Cure
by Limey
Summary: Eiri's sick as a dog, but Shuichi can fix it! He'll fix it, or he'll kill Eiri in the process. And, need we say, hapless fun [or torture] ensues. [A LONG overdue update, more info in 3rd Chapter].
1. Prologue: Contamination

Disclaimer: Gravitation © Maki Murakami and not me. :( 

AN: I was sick as a dog last week with some unnamed viral infection and as I lay in bed, coughing fit to die with a fever that could boil eggs, a thought came to me: Why don't you write a Gravi fanfic about Eiri being sick? One that's not full of sugary fluff that makes you want to puke more? And so, this little story was born. It's my first attempt at something not angsty or serious in a while, so...I really hope I don't fall flat on my face with this. Ha. Enjoy.

The Sure-Fire Cure

Prologue: Contamination

          He took a very slow drag, his eyes automatically closing as the nicotine invaded his senses. Eiri loved his cigarettes. Leaning onto the railing of his balcony, he blew out a nondescript puff of grey smoke, then pulled the stick away from his mouth to shake off the extra ash at the tip. There was something comforting about cigarettes that made you ignore the blatant warnings of cancer on every box... Eiri liked the fact that smoking was mindless, and he could drift into thoughtless white space whenever the nicotine was in his system. Nicotine buzzes were bliss incarnate. 

          It was still warm enough in the autumn for him to smoke outside—he usually preferred smoking indoors, but the cigarette always tasted a little fresher when he took the extra effort to go out. And sometimes even he got a little claustrophobic staying in the same apartment day in and day out. Taking another long drag, he stared blankly at the building across from him and tongued the stick in his mouth. The atmosphere was so relaxing... and a nap started to sound especially appealing.

          The sound of a key turning the lock reached his ears a moment later and he groaned, although his lips twitched upward involuntarily. He dashed his cigarette butt on the concrete railing and exhaled, watching the last of the smoke get carried away by the slightly cool breeze. 

          "Yuuuuuki!" came the voice at the door. Eiri closed his eyes again, breathing in the fresh air; anticipating the end to his serene moment and trying to cherish it as it passed. "Yuuuuu...ki?" 

          Shuichi stepped onto the balcony, staring quizzically at his lover with a playful smile on his face. "Yuki, you never go outside! Why are you here?" 

          "Trying to enjoy my last moments of peace and quiet before you got home," he grumbled back, voice not unkind. He turned around to face Shuichi, his elbows backed against the railing. "Welcome back." 

          Shuichi beamed, his cheeks flushing as he proceeded to attack Eiri and almost push the both of them over the balcony. "I'm home!" 

          "I can see that," Eiri said caustically, rolling his eyes. He kissed Shuichi on the forehead softly. "It seems a little early for you to be back, however." Shuichi brightened at this statement and at the gentle treatment being bestowed upon him. He never let Eiri's nicotine buzzes go to waste.

          "Well, Hiro couldn't come today because he came down with some crazy virus infection or something that involves a lot of coughing and headaches and we thought that we could carry on without him because Suguru can sort of fill in for him on the synth—we're working on parts for a new song that I wrote last week, remember I told you about that?—and then he started getting a really bad fever in the middle of practice so K decided that there was no point in me staying there since Suguru had to go home and so here I am!" Shuichi pulled away from Eiri and struck a Superman© pose while laughing maddeningly, showing no signs of tire from his breathless monologue. "I have an immune system of STEEL! It's been years since I've been sick!"

          "Right, right," Eiri said exasperatedly, rubbing his eyebrows to fight an oncoming headache. By all means, he was used to this burst of energy by now. It didn't necessarily mean he had grown to handle it properly, however. He unconsciously reached for another cigarette in his shirt pocket and stuck it between his lips. This, he had found, was a relatively good way of avoiding headaches. It also prevented him from yelling at Shuichi, which he was prone to do, but never really enjoyed. Shuichi's mouth formed a round 'o' at the sight of the cigarette, and he promptly pulled it away from Eiri's mouth. 

          "Brat," Eiri spat, his temper vexed. "Give me my cigarette back."

          "Baaaaad Yuki," Shuichi sang, pocketing the stick in his tight jeans. "Chainsmoking is horrible for you!" 

          "But I can't think of anything more irritating than having to deal with you when I'm not good and drugged," the older man countered irately. "Now give it back already, you idiot child, before I take it back myself." Shuichi grinned at the threat and leaned in close to his lover, blue eyes meeting yellow-green. His arms snaked around Eiri's neck as he licked his lips slowly. Maybe a little seductively. 

          "I can think of better ways to occupy your mouth," he said slyly, planting a sensual kiss at the taller man's collarbone. Eiri froze as his anger subsided...only for his sex drive to kick in at full force. _Damn Shuichi for playing the only card he really has._ "And maybe you could...attempt to get your cigarette back in the process." The pink-haired boy slowly grinded his hip to Eiri's as the other man took in a slight breath. "What do you th—"

          Eiri dove into his mouth, his hands coming up on either side of Shuichi's face as he mindlessly let out a murmur of pleasure. They remained on the balcony for a little while, Eiri's hands wandering to Shuichi's behind as he pressed the smaller man's groin against his—"God, you are such a little whore"—before Eiri finally broke off the action, Shuichi mewling in disagreement. 

          "Don't whine," the blonde said huskily, his eyes boring into his lover's. "We're taking this into the bedroom." 

          "Yuki..." Shuichi moaned as Eiri grabbed his wrists, kissing freely at his neck and the top part of his chest. Eiri smirked as he slowly pushed the singer inside.

          "I still have to find that cigarette, you brat, and I think it'll make it a lot easier top find if your pants are off." 

          Off went the amorous couple to their bedroom, unaware that a more sinister evil was about to befall them...or should we say him? 

to be continued.

It'll get funnier, I promise! I still remember how to be funny...I think. :)

Limey


	2. Chapter 1: Infection

Disclaimer: Gravitation © Maki Murakami and not me. :( 

AN: With finals only weeks away, I _hope _I can get this story finished by New Years'... adding that and my deep-rooted issues with serialization in general, we'll be lucky if I finish this before I graduate from college. (Just kidding. I think.) Enough of my excuses though, hope you like the first chapter! 

          Oh, and quickly—the incubation period for a virus is normally longer than...well, a night full of sex, but I'm going to hold my artistic license close to my chest and defy modern-day science. So there. :)

The Sure-Fire Cure

Chapter 1: Infection.

          Eiri popped his hard-earned cigarette into his mouth with a smug grin. The sun was rising; he could see the sunlight cast through the blinds becoming more prominent on the ceiling by the minute. His ears took in the heavy, rhythmic breathing of the boy next to him as he reached toward the nightstand for his lighter. Sometimes he stayed awake after sex, exhausted as he was, just to take in the serenity of afterglow and the sound of Shuichi sleeping. It was horribly romantic, and he tried not to think about the fact that he was doing it more often than he used to. 

          The shock of too-cold air hitting his bare arm got to him suddenly as he shivered; was it really that cold already? He didn't remember being cold through the night. Then again, he had something to keep him warm... The blond man grumbled as he gently untangled himself from Shuichi's grasp. He might as well turn up the thermostat if he was up...and squeeze in a post-coital smoke while he was at it. 

          As he threw the covers off of his body, he was struck with the sheer frost in the air and his barely-clothed body started to involuntarily shake. _Shit. Do I need a cigarette this badly? _His brain refused to unfog as he reached again for his lighter, then brought it to his cigarette, hand shaking violently all the while. The situation became even more pathetic as his increased shaking prevented him from actually striking a flame. Eiri cursed, afterglow making way for nicotine-deprived irritation. Fine. He would turn the thermostat up first, then smoke the stupid cigarette. He started to push himself up and out of bed...

          ...but fell back down, his head spinning and his arms aching. God, he felt awful... he hurriedly pulled the sheets up over his body to try and retain some body heat, but it wasn't enough; he was freezing. Still shivering, he wrapped his arms around himself and curled into the fetal position—anything to retain the body heat he had left and to stop the chills that were wracking his frame. Damnit, why did autumn mornings have to be so damn cold? 

          And suddenly, it dawned on him. It wasn't the temperature of his surroundings... it was _his temperature, burning hot enough to fry eggs on his skin._

          _"Hiro couldn't come today because he came down with some crazy virus infection or something that involves a lot of coughing and headaches..." _

          Oh God. Oh no. Oh shit. 

          "Shuichi..." Eiri made a move as to throttle the sleeping man but found his energy sapped dry in the process, and his arm fell lightly over Shuichi's chest instead. God, he was as threatening as a freaking lamb. "Damn kid, I'm going to kill you for this..."

          He didn't realize that he was snuggling up against Shuichi for warmth as he, with his world spinning around him viciously, blacked out in utter sickness.

          "Yuki...Yuki! YUKI!!" 

          Eiri drifted painfully back to consciousness, his eyes opening slowly to see a very worried, pointed face with delicious little lips turned into a worried frown. "Nnn..." he croaked, too tired to attempt any higher type of conversation. Shuichi put his lips to Eiri's forehead, kissing the skin softly while assessing the damage.

          "Yuki, you're burning up!" was his intelligent conclusion. Eiri rolled his eyes to the best of his abilities. "No, Yuki, don't be a man about it and try to shrug it off! I'm worried—your temperature is high! It's REALLY high!" Panic wracked the pink-haired boy. "Oh no!!!! You could have the flu, or pneumonia, or SARS, or—"

          "Shuichi," Eiri said weakly, his voice still managing to drip with cold sarcasm, "you're giving me a headache."

          "OH YUKI I AM SO SORRY!" Shuichi recoiled in horror, slapping his hands to his mouth. "Mmm mnmph nnnnff." He winced at the obvious stupidity of trying to speak while being muffled by his own hands as he dropped them. "I mean," He whispered, "I'm sorry, Yuki." 

          The boy was just too damn cute for his own good sometimes. Eiri gathered his strength and traced Shuichi's jaw line with his fingertips, too delirious with sickness to be fully aware of the affection he was showing. God, everything took effort...even thinking. _No thinking..no talkie...I hurt_.  He was blacking out again, and being non-responsive just made sense, damnit all.

          He was pulled back into the pain of consciousness with a rainstorm of Shuichi's tears.

          "Yuki, you're so NICE when you're sick...I wish you could ALWAYS be sick!" He sobbed. Eiri settled for blatantly ignoring the ridiculous statement and took a shallow breath, still shivering slightly, and Shuichi's eyes widened as his tears immediately stopped. "Oh, you're freezing, aren't you? Selfish me, caring about whether you're nicer to me when you're sick as death... Let me get you warmed up!" And he unceremonially fell on top of Eiri like a lumpy blanket. Eiri, already weak with fever, had no way of pushing Shuichi off of him...or breathing. Luckily, Shuichi soon rolled to the side and wrapped his arms around him before he started turning blue. "Heehee! I'm Yuki's blanket!"

          "Stupid boy," Eiri wheezed, gasping for air. "Don't you know...how to take care of someone that's sick?"

          Oh shit. Oh shit. 

          And damn it all to hell. Did he just suggest that Shuichi should take care of him? Even he wasn't delirious enough to trick himself into thinking that Shuichi could do anything but make him even more sick. Maybe if he closed his eyes and prayed to every god imaginable that his lover didn't get the hint...

          But Shuichi always ended up being the most observational when it was the least convinient for Eiri. As he opened his eyes again to see Shuichi's face flush with the chance to prove himself, he cried inwardly with horror. _I'm going to die._

          "Yuuuuki..." Shuichi said in play hesitation, his index finger pressed daintily on his lip, "if you wanted me to take care of you..."

          Eiri shook his head as violently as possible (which consisted of a pathetic tremor from side to side) as Shuichi blasted out of bed, his fist triumphantly raised in the air as he landed on his feet. The Flames of Everlasting Love and Devotion© crackled to life behind him, making obvious his...well, everlasting love and devotion.

          Had a seatbelt been present, Eiri would have buckled himself in with resignation.

          "If you wanted me to take care of you... ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS ASK!" He grinned maniacally, then struck a noble pose that slightly resembled Sailormoon at the end of another pointless speech. "I'll have you feeling better in no time!"

          "Nnn...no..." Shuichi bent over and pressed his finger onto Eiri's lips, silencing the desperate protest and plea. 

          "It's okay, Yuki, I'll just call K and tell him that I can't come in today—everyone else is sick anyways! Wow, isn't that crazy? I wonder how everybody got sick at the same time...what a coincidence!" He ran off to fetch the phone in the study as Eiri glared at his retreating back. Shuichi, Bringer of Death and Disease. He wondered if Nakano and Suguru had met their same horrible fates because of Shuichi's 'immune system of steel'. Hopefully they hadn't obtained the infection quite in the same way he had... with another smirk of satisfaction, Eiri felt himself loose his grip on consciousness once again. Blacking out was tasty.

next up: Shuichi 'proves' his mad doctor skills to Eiri. Place your bets now on whether the cranky writer kicks the bucket. 

             Chapter 2: Playing Doctor. 

Yes, I'm slowly inching towards more humor. And those of you that said it couldn't be done...I shake my fist at you. *proceeds to shake angrily* ...Right. Anyhow, thanks to those that reviewed the prologue—I love feedback! And thanks goes to my ever-tolerant beta reader, Navale. Yey. :D And thank you for reading. Hopefully you'll stick around for the next installation, hm?

Limey


	3. Chapter 2: Playing Doctor

Disclaimer: Gravitation © Maki Murakami and not me. :(

AN: Again, I pet my artistic license lovingly with the ...er..._treatment_ used by Shuichi in this chapter. You'll see what I mean.

Eek. I don't even want to delve into why it's taken me a year to get out a chapter I've had in this exact form for the past… year. More at the bottom; for now, read on.

The Sure-Fire Cure

Chapter 2: Playing Doctor.

"_I love you forever, forever and always..."_

As he slowly roused himself into half-consciousness, he exhaled at the familiar voice crooning a lullaby. He wondered if he could feign sleep for a few moments longer, just to listen to that voice...

...and to delay the inevitable fussing. Sometimes he wished that Shuichi was a music box that he could turn on and off as he pleased.

_"As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be."_ He felt a hand brush over his forehead to check his temperature then heard Shuichi sigh, his breath tickling Eiri's lips. The blond-haired man could almost taste his opportunity; sick as he was, he never let anything get in the way of his... well, Shuichi fetish. Trying to hide his tell-tale smirk, he decided to stop 'sleeping' as he leaned up to meet his lover's mouth with his, playfully licking Shuichi's lower lip. _Nothing tastier than a hyperactive rock star,_ he thought, thoroughly satisfied. Shuichi breathed out harshly, his body immediately collapsing next to Eiri's like clockwork. The impromptu session continued for a few minutes until Eiri's hands roamed gleefully to Shuichi's legs, masterfully grabbing at...

His golden-hazel eyes snapped open with dismay as Shuichi blushed. "What the—"

"Ehehehe," was all that Shuichi could say, his face now as pink as his hair. Eiri roughly shoved the boy away from him and his expression grew even more disgusted as he got a better look at what Shuichi was wearing.

"What—the—hell?" he seethed, breath ragged with the sheer exertion of getting Shuichi off of him. His lover managed to land on his white pumps, the heels skidding slightly against the floor.

"I thought you'd think it was cute," he pouted, hands over the extremely short white miniskirt he wore. "I mean, sometimes, when we're...ah..._doing it_—"He clenched his hands in embarrassment as the words passed through his lips, "—y-you—you talk about role-playing..."

Now it was Eiri's turn to flush, his already burning skin getting warmer at the mention of his pillow talk. "T-That's different," he managed to stutter out, trying to retain some dignity. "I never said anything about you dressing up like a _girl_. I'm almost starting to think that you _like_ role-playing as a girl..."

"Yukiiiiii," Shuichi whined, toddling nervously back to his original spot next to their bed. Well, what was usually their bed unless Eiri was super cranky. Eiri decided that he was on a roll and decided to goad the boy further.

"Just because you're on bottom doesn't mean you have to dress like it," he smirked. Before Shuichi could retort angrily, he put a finger to Shuichi's lips. "It's a joke, brat, and I honestly couldn't help myself. Now—before I get even more of a headache—tell me what on God's name made you think that dressing up like a nurse would be a good idea."

"I want to take good care of you," was the sullen reply. Eiri blinked, his expression deadpan.

_How is you dressing up in drag going to make me feel any better? Idiot._

"I figured that if I was going to do it right, I was going to go all out!" He flashed a triumphant little smile, his spirit starting to return to him bit by bit. The older man looked him up and down one more time blankly, fully taking in the little white headband with a red cross adorned on his pink head, the barely-there white frock, the sheer white stockings...

How did Shuichi manage to look so irresistible in anything he wore?

Eiri figured it was because he liked to undress Shuichi in whatever he was wearing, so clothes didn't really make much of a difference in the end. He closed his eyes; the energy put into the last few minutes of what would usually be a regular occurrence was quickly tiring him out. "Whatever. As long as I can have some aspirin, a glass of water and a cigarette, _Nurse,_ I'll be fine."

"Maybe the aspirin and the water...but not the cigarette, Yuki." Shuichi clasped his hands to his mouth coyly. "We _nurses_ only give our patients things that will help them get _better_!"

"You're kidding me." The devoted nurse shook his head vigorously, wagging a finger in Eiri's face (which was quickly contorting with anger).

"Nope! Maybe you'll realize what a nasty habit smoking is now that you're bedridden, Yu—"

The room suddenly grew dark; a cold, harsh wind tugged at Shuichi's skirt as he shrank away from Eiri in fright. He had always been threatened with it, warned about it, but this...

This was truly Yuki Eiri's **Glare of DEATH** (©). Shuichi felt faint; staring into those eerily glowing eyes made him feel like a bit of his soul was being sucked right out. But he had faced this nicotine-addicted monster before in lesser forms—he would not step down now. Gritting his teeth, he tried to smile...except a smile is never effective nor believable if your teeth are chattering in horror.

"Cigarette." The icy steel in his voice made the pink-haired boy wince. He managed to shake his head vehemently.

"No no NO Yuki, they're bad for you! You know, there's a reason they're called cancer sticks!" Eiri was quickly running out of resolve due to his sickness; of course, how could anyone be horribly imposing with a high temperature and strength to rival a five year-old? The room temperature started to warm up again, much to Shuichi's relief, as Eiri gave up in exhaustion.

"_You're_ like a cancer, you stupid brat," he wheezed finally, his voice losing its vindictiveness. "You're like a tumor that refuses to be removed." He sank back onto the bed, his head spinning and his ego sorely wounded. Shuichi bit his lip, trembling at the harsh words and trying not to cry.

"That's not a nice way to thank your faithful, devoted nurse," he said quietly, his head hanging a little lower than usual. "I just...I... No matter what, Yuki, I want you to be better, and I'm... I'm trying my hardest, really..."

Part of him reasoned that things would be infinitely worse if he let his lover take care of him—actually, _all_ of him was pretty aware of this, to be honest. It meant so much to Shuichi, though...

_I'm turning into such a soft-hearted prick_, he griped inwardly, _and it's all Shuichi's fault. He's going to kill me for sure._ Times like this made him wish that he hadn't fallen for the singer as hard as the singer had fallen for him. Eiri gathered his strength and, while swallowing back his pride, took Shuichi's hand.

"If you weren't dressed — badly, if I may add — like a female nurse, I'd think you were cute right now." But in spite of his biting words, Eiri let his mouth quirk upward slightly and all, in Shuichi's eyes, was forgiven. Shuichi flashed an impossibly bright smile and kissed him fully on the lips, lingering... the kid was like a freaking rubber ball when it came to his emotions...

"Thank you for giving me a chance," he beamed. Eiri played it off with a snort, slightly thankful that he was sick and the flush that came to his cheeks was unnoticed. "And now... I'm gonna fix you up so good you won't remember ever being sick!"

Shuichi stood up and tilted his chin up nobly, his hands on either side of his waist with a triumphant grin on his face.

"Let the healing begin!"

Five minutes later...

"**NO!**"

"Yuki, it won't hurt, I promise! Just...give me your hand..."

Silence, then a whimper. Then a grunt, because Eiri decided that whimpering was entirely Shuichi's form of expression and not his. "Shuichi, I'm pretty sure I'm looking out for my own health when I say that _you have no idea what the hell you're doing_!" The pink-haired boy shrugged off the insult thoughtlessly, his brow crinkled in frustration.

"You're disturbing your life energy right now, Yuki—try to calm down—"

"You want me to calm down when you're going to stick it to me like some live _pincushion_?" Eiri tried to scoot away to the other side of the bed to no avail, clearly perturbed at the sight of the acupuncture needles grasped tightly in Shuichi's hand. Shuichi clicked his tongue, his face totally solemn.

"_Alternative medicine is quickly becoming a very prominent field in today's society_... or so this instant acupuncture kit said on the other side of the box..." He put his spare hand to his own face, cupping it slightly in thought. "Now lie still so I can feel for your chakra!"

"Screw chakra," Eiri muttered under his breath, putting up as much resistance as he could muster. "Screw _it_, and screw—"

Suddenly, he felt Shuichi's breath on his ear and he shuddered to a stop.

"Yuki," he whispered coyly, his tongue tracing the outer lobe. The smaller man had his knees around Eiri's waist in a half-straddling position, and he took full advantage of this as he grabbed his lover's limp hand and placed it on his upper thigh. Eiri's fingers found themselves under the makeshift skirt. Shuichi moaned slightly. "Yuki, _touch me_..."

Eiri, in his sickness, thought a little slower than usual—and thanks to Shuichi he was temporarily stupefied with lust. His hand gained strength as it wandered farther up Shuichi's skirt, his mind fully occupied with cupping some finely-shaped ass... he missed the devilish gleam in Shuichi's eyes...

"Ah-HAH!" He triumphantly stuck the needle into Eiri's arm, driving it in like a stake. "See, Yuki, it wasn't so ba—"

Blood started gushing out of Eiri's arm like a geyser as Shuichi's jaw dropped in horror, the acupuncture needles scattering to the floor.

"Well, brat, I don't think this counts as 'fixing me up so good I won't remember ever being sick'," Eiri mocked faintly, the blood draining from his face at an alarmingly quick rate. "I always knew you would be the death of me..."

"But...it not _lethal_...is it?"

"Oh no, brat, of course not," he shot back. "Hitting a major artery only kills people in a matter of minutes. I'll be fine."

"Y-Y-Yuki..." Shuichi laughed nervously. "You're kidding, right?"

The silence that greeted him made him realize that Eiri had passed out from the blood loss a few seconds ago. So, Shuichi did the only plausible thing he could think of at that moment.

He screamed.

To be continued…

Preview: Mummies, demonic pentagon circles, and… is anyone wondering why Eiri hasn't called the police yet? Chapter 3: Playing Doctor, Part Deux.

The Author's Defense:

So, a lot of things have happened in the past year. I'm now a junior in college, focusing on my pre-med major, have a job as a nurse aide, a boyfriend, a new apartment, and a reformatted computer. Each of these things has required a ridiculous amount of time (with the exception of the computer, of course) that I have had to spend away from everyone online—my domain is horribly old, and so are my stories here on Additionally, I had wanted to make this chapter MUCH longer (I have had this story planned out since I started writing it). However, I felt that it was better for me to get this chapter out since I've been getting poked about it from various people. I really like this chapter… I hope you did too. And if you didn't, critiques are so very welcome. As I haven't written anything in almost a year, I'm sure I'm rusty. :)

Thanks to those of you that have been persistent about hearing more about The Sure-Fire Cure, or those that have written kind reviews… I hope I haven't let you down. :)

Limey


End file.
